


The Snow Warlord

by LaIdiotOfWherever



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Betrayal, Gen, Vampire Turning, WTF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaIdiotOfWherever/pseuds/LaIdiotOfWherever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Story of a Nord in the dragon cult in the Mythic Era who serves under Alduin as the cult's Warlord. Until she's betrayed by those she swore to serve, and is sealed away, only to reemerge in the Fourth Era to a vastly changed Skyrim.<br/>And now she wants answers.<br/>........Let's hope the locals still speak the same language........</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snow Warlord

Het nok faal vahlok deinmaar do Dovahgolz

ahrk aan fus do unslaad rahgol ahrk vulom

~ _Here lies the guardian keeper of Dragonstone_

_and a force of unending rage and darkness_

 

 

 

_Silence.........cold and hard as a blade. I slumber. Cold, weary, fitful. Whether I wake or dream, there is no difference._

_Just the darkness. And the cold........_

 

 

A Nord warrioress strode through the stone halls of the temple, the torches along the way glinting off her armor with their ruddy light, casting her silhouette against the walls as she passed.

Konahrik Od was passing from the realm of concern, and now stood on the threshold of worry. Her thoughts pacing back and forth in her mind like a starved wolf.

The dragon priest had gathered together at Bromjunaar, and had now been closed away in seclusion for over a week. The high priest had been known to cloister themselves away for days at a time for council, but never before for this long. This worried her. She may not be a priest, coached in rituals and the finer weaving on intrigue, but she could read the signs of when a storm was coming and when the upper echelon was worried. 

This, among Miraak's recent betrayal- _no_.

_Best not finish that thought._

She stopped, gritting her teeth and forced herself to keep her breath even and calm. Closing her eyes, Konahrik Od shook her head once, as if to physically erase the thought and the emotions it brought. When she was sure she had control again, she continued walking.

Still, the facts remained. The populace was growing restless. Whispers and dissent would turn to something bolder, and the Traitor Miraak had provided an example to follow. In turn, he would have to be made an example of. To go against their dragon lords was an act of faithless madness, and retribution would be swift. She would personally se to this, for she had been appointed by the dragon's themselves as their Warlord.

To defy them was nearly unthinkable to her mind she mused, turning down yet another corridor as she walked. Although she found them a harsh master to serve, demanding much and returning little, she would serve loyally until death.

But if the unthinkable were to happen.......

She quickened her pace.

The Dragon Priest had sent for their Warlord.

She was needed.

 

 

_I am imprisoned, alone, in the suffocating dark. Remnants of memories brush my mind, tattered and faded like ghosts. Deliriously my fingers weakly brush across the scratches my desperate clawing hands made as I fought for freedom._

_The stone still as cold and hard as betrayal......._

 

 

Her uncertainty did not abate when she was allowed entry to the council chamber. The dragon priest were silently standing before their seats in a half circle as she made her bow.

Straightening, she met the priests' gaze. Their masks seemed even more alien, illuminated by the numerous blazers' flickering light, their emotions and faces hidden from her.

Konahrik Od noted from the corner of her eye that there was another cloaked figure standing in the shadows near the door, but she was unable to give it more thought as she was beckoned forward.

"Konahrik, the heart's of men grows false and full of lies," she recognized the priest speaking as Morokei, the ruler of Bromjunaar, and easily the most powerful of all the dragon priest as he continued, "it has been decided how best you shall serve us."

That was when the cloaked figure stepped from the shadows, coming to stand behind her, throwing back his hood which reveled his eyes. The burning eyes of the of a vampire.

 

 

_I have gone made with betrayal. Mad with anger. Mad with grief. With silence and cold. With loneliness........._

 

 

Konahrik Od did not even have time to fully turn before it attacked her. She still wore her helm and armor, but there is still an opening between the helmet and pauldron at the neck, and that is where the vampire struck.

It's fangs pierced her flesh as it's jaws crushed her throat so that she couldn't even scream. The vampire's dead lips burned her as it drank her blood, it's breath prickling against her skin.

Konahrik Od tried to fight back, her fingers desperately reaching to claw it's face, but the vampire quickly trapped her in his arms, crushing her resistance with their strength. Her vision blurred and started to dim as her futile struggles slowed, and then finally stopped as numbness fell over her. She seemed unable to fully draw her thoughts together, she didn't understand why she wasn't fighting anymore. She couldn't remember why she wanted to.....she was only aware of the hungry mouth against the burning wound it had made.

Through to dull haze, she was barely able to make out the words of Morokei as he spoke, "That's enough, we want her turned not drained!"

The vampire released her, saying something in reply as she crumpled to the floor, falling to the side unnoticed.

All she felt before the darkness took her was confusion, a lone tear slipping down her cheek.

 

_Wake._

_The memories fuel my wrath. I strike with ancient rage against the stone of my prison. As it gives, I burst free of my tomb....._

 

 

_Pain._

Konahrik Od's body felt as if it had been dragged for miles through to ice and snow. Her skin feeling both bruised and strangely cool. She was laying on something hard, and she briefly wondered if she was still laying on the floor, before becoming aware of the murmur of voices.

_Morokei........the vampire......._

She groaned, her eyes burning as they fluttered open.

"Hurry! She's waking!" a man's voice shouted.

Groggily Konahrik Od looked at her surroundings. She was in a open cavern, the sounds of a waterfall echoing throughout. There was also a rune wall quietly whispering with power in front of her, lit by the dim light that filtered down through some small opening from above.

This was no place in Bromjunaar.

Struggling to move, she slowly turned her head to the side. There she saw Hakon, her first lieutenant and three other men quickly coming towards her, a great Blackstone slab held between them.

It was then that she understood that they meant to entomb her alive.

Horror and fear spread through her like fire, as she fought to move her limbs which couldn't seem to move fast enough, realizing that they must have drugged her in her sleep.

"No! Hakon please!" she desperately screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes wet as he and his men swiftly slid the slab into place, shutting away the sight of his commander and friend's pleading face and burning eyes.

It couldn't however, quite seal away the sound of her hands beating futilely against the stone, as she silently cried in despair.

 

 

_Light. I want to see light. The cloying darkness has pressed itself on my eyes too long. I take a trembling step forward. Then I take another, stumbling in the attempt._

_The memories still cling to my mind........._

 

 

Hands clawed frenziedly on the slab above her, her voice broken but locked in a terrible howl.

How much time had passed? Days? Weeks? Hours? Minutes? Konahrik Od didn't know. The hunger seared her veins, it's claws tearing into her mind.

The vampirism had fully manifested in her body, but she had yet to slake the thirst for blood needed and desired by this state of un-death.

And now that need ravaged her body, blotting all else out to the blood starved vampire.

 

 

_I cry out from pain the memories bring, nearly falling to my knees. Pushing away the long nights of agony, I force myself on. Putting on foot in front of the other, my stride becomes more sure._

_"No."_

_Anger fills the hole that the hunger and darkness_   _me, and my pace quickens and lengthens. I want to breath the free air. Feel the wind against my face._

_I stride on, unrelenting, cutting down anything that bars my way._

_I am old._

_I am ancient._

_I am powerful._

_What I want, I shall have._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing! D: I usually don't work with drama/angst but hey I got a wild hair on my head that said "lets try and write a old-school-Viking-ish/Skyrim-lore-inspired/drama-ish piece!" 8D  
> I tried to make sure all the dragon words/grammar was correct, along with all the dates, so if I messed up please just take a look at my user name.  
> I hope you've enjoyed reading!  
> (Please leave comments?)


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